


That Would Be Wrong

by innocentlies_archivist



Category: Jossverse RPF
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2005-08-08
Updated: 2005-08-08
Packaged: 2018-05-17 19:55:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 21,691
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5883565
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/innocentlies_archivist/pseuds/innocentlies_archivist
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Neither Alexis nor David are as innocent as they look.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Method

**Author's Note:**

> Note from Versaphile, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [Innocent Lies](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Innocent_Lies). Deciding that it needed to have a more long-term home, I began importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in January 2016. I e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact the e-mail address on [Innocent Lies collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/innocentlies/profile).

"You have to stop doing that."

It's late enough that the hours have once again swung back on their way into morning. This of course means nothing on a set, where complicated matters such as time and energy are condensed through the magic of industry physics to never, upon never, equal the far greater power of money.

They had a schedule. There were shots that needed to be done. They'd be there all night if they had to.

Unions, however, are a force unto themselves. A term that suggests itself is "black hole" but as Alexis himself is a card-carrying member of one he's not entirely certain he can use that phrase without thinking himself a traitor to the cause. But it's somewhat apt, if one thinks of suits as light and teamsters as the only thing that can stop them.

Then again that requires thinking of suits as light, and that's an entirely wrong metaphor on every possible level.

"Doing what?" David asks, and it's back down to them again.

They're on break, because union rules demand that they be and, more practically, even someone fresh off the bus could tell that nothing was going to get done unless some kind of intervention was had to cut short and cap wayward energy. Synergy was one thing, lack of control was something else.

Of course it's strange to think of having a lack of control when David is currently inside of a cage, everyone else has taken five ("And let's actually try to make it back here in at least *ten*, people!") to go drink, eat, piss, shit, and/or drug themselves (not necessarily in that order), and a stagehand has very foolishly given Alexis the only keys to the very real lock on the cage that was put on, by Alexis's own suggestion, when the door had the embarrassing habit of swinging open right when the script demanded that David's character be trapped behind it and unable to get out.

People very often foolishly give Alexis keys in situations like this. He has an honest face. It makes him seem affable, and trustworthy. That works to his advantage when past history gives every indication that he will abuse the privilege with savage glee.

Such as now.

"You know damned well what," Alexis says. He stands opposite David, right on his mark. He's tempted to sit back down on the chair. Casual pose. An actor portraying someone who thinks he has all the time in the world. Except Alexis wouldn't be acting, and he's not as naive as Wesley continues to be.

David is the picture of innocence. Except he's using Angelus body language in a deliberate parody of both the character and himself. "What? I know nothing."

"No kidding," Alexis throws back at him with a quirk of the eyebrows that indicates David served the opportunity up and Alexis was happy to slam it right back over the net. Advantage: Denisof.

Alexis does sit then. Slumped. Body posture that would not make it to the screen but which isn't entirely his own either. It's a put-on. A study of alpha-masculine relaxation. Hips forward, shoulders rocking the chair back on two legs. One foot over to the side. One hand dangling a keychain against his thigh where it can perfectly reflect the overhead light.

David's not oblivious to the meaning of this. "Oh you're *kidding*."

Alexis grins, a perfect bastard. "They wanted to be sure someone would let you out."

David slides his arms through the bars, folding them around the outside as his body leans against the metal, shows that he's well aware he's going to be in there for a very long time, assuming Alexis decides to let him out at all. "And they trusted *you*?"

"They keep doing that, don't they?" Alexis marvels. He slips his middle finger into the keyring. Gives it a flick that makes the keys spin around and around. "So - would you like some coffee? Maybe an extra-large soda? I have a tape around here somewhere of a babbling brook. Want me to play it for you? You seem tense."

"Revenge is sweet," David reminds him.

"It really, *really* is," Alexis agrees. He dangles the keys like a cat toy, as though David were anywhere near close enough to being able to reach out for them.

"You'll get yours," David tells him.

"Someone would have to let you out first," Alexis makes a show of looking around. "You know, it'd be a *shame* if someone accidentally dropped these say, over there in the trash. Probably take forever to find them. Assuming someone didn't go home with them and then flush them down the toilet."

"Could flush them in the bathroom right here," David points out.

Alexis turns back to him. "Why are you helping me?"

David shrugs a single shoulder. "*No* idea. So what'd I do this time?"

"Made me *laugh*," Alexis punctuates the accusation with a single pointed finger. The keys glimmer inside the rest of his fisted palm. "You have to stop doing that."

David puffs himself up, sketching an ego out of thin-air that he doesn't actually have in any true incarnation of himself. "I am an *actor*. I am saying my *lines*. If *you* aren't professional enough to have *self-control* while I am *doing my craft* then - "

But it's no use, because Alexis is gone already. He gives David the finger as he tries to get past the laughter and form a reply. "Oh go to *Hell*. You've been doing it on purpose and you know it!"

David's back on innocent again. But there's a gleam in his eyes that reminds him that if Alexis had the easy volley before, it's now negated by the fact that David hasn't yet sent the ball *back*. "They said I could improv."

"In *character*," Alexis reminds him. He stands up, retaking the scant inch of advantage that his height allows him.

"I was in character," David defends himself. A shift of the shoulders changes his position. His arms go in, his body leans over to the side. They're standing face to face now, though there's still plenty of space and solid metal in between them.

Alexis folds his own arms. Aims for a tone that's something between scolding father and director who's over-tired from dealing with actors who won't stay on cue. "I somehow doubt Angelus would start talking about chickens while in character."

"You don't know," David says. "He might."

Alexis comes forward. There's a foot of room now. Alexis, foot, bars, David. The keys remain safely palmed in Alexis's fist. His fist rests at his side. He's smiling, but he keeps trying for stern. The problem is he's not really angry, and even talking about the jokes is enough to wake the energy up again. Synergy, except it's the wrong kind. It's the naughty schoolboy kind that inspires you to write rude things on chalkboards, share cigarettes behind bleachers, and put all sorts of inappropriate things into the tailpipes of teacher's cars. "You have to stop that."

"Or what?" David asks. "You'll *still* not let me out of here?"

"I could torture you," Alexis points out. He dangles the keys again. "There's so *much* I could do while you're in there. Starting with the fact that for some strange reason you thought it was a wise idea to leave your house keys and cellphone where I could reach them."

"You're digging your own grave," David tells him. "I'm gonna get out of here and when I do - "

"You'll what?" Alexis mocks. "Make me laugh to death?"

"Making you constantly flub your lines would only be the start," David says.

Alexis steps forward. "I'll do the same to you and worse."

"Says you."

"I've read ahead," Alexis tells him. "You're not the only one who has improvisation that he'll be allowed to do."

"I can resist," David bluffs.

"No, you can't," Alexis says.

"You certainly can't," David says, and the words are a strange kind of agreement and challenge all twisted into one.

The keys clank against something. The space was gone. Alexis, bars, David. Nothing else between them, and David's eyes show that yes, he still has the ball, and he's not giving the advantage up anytime soon.

Which is a mixed metaphor, or a wrong way of looking at it. But either way their lips are together, and one of them is clutching the bars, and one of them is moaning, and metal feels cool against hot flesh that's now trapped behind jeans, and David's tongue is strong and completely assured of itself, and the world is *there*, right *there* at the cusp of all this, just waiting to burst in through this bubble of David and him, him and David, and bring public reality and notice and obligations and *wrongness* right back down around them and -

They're apart. Alexis is gasping. He's definitely the one clinging to the bars now. If he didn't, he might not stand. David is calm, in a way that makes Alexis realize that David was *always* calm, for the entire exchange.

Still…

"You have to stop doing that," Alexis tells him.

David's eyes are pools of invitation, and confidence. "Make me."

The break is over. People return, bringing harsh noise and chaotic energy back with them. The moment shatters, and to look at David is to think that absolutely nothing happened at all.

Except the gleam never leaves David's eyes when he makes Alexis flub a line and later, much later, Alexis realizes that in spite of all that had happened, David never once tried to take the keys away from him.


	2. Method

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Neither Alexis nor David are as innocent as they look.

They're kissing again.

 

In an office, this time, because it has no windows and a door that locks and nobody thinks to look for them here when someone has placed an incontinent dog (belonging to a friend of Alexis's) inside of J's trailer (which was David's idea, and revenge for the frogs that David was still finding inside of his cabinets, and coat pockets) and J is out for retribution and the assistants of the suits are far more serious about the matter and their desire to remind them all that *this is business* and *time is money* and all kinds of other clichs that make everyone *besides* the poor assistants break out into uncontrollable laughter, but it's David and Alexis who get the giggles worst of all.

 

It was David's idea to run for cover. Not that cover was needed because he's the star of the show and there are so many things he can get away with and playing pranks on his supporting cast is ultimately considered the kind of perk that's supposed to make up for the fact that the network refuses to give him enough money to make his transportation needs less than embarrassing.

 

But J had been bellowing. Not *seriously* bellowing, but the kind of bellowing that indicates that at bare minimum water balloons might be involved. Or, if he still had them from last month, the squirt guns filled with ink that was supposed to be disappearing, but was actually quite permanent once it hit the silks and linens that made up David's wardrobe.

 

Not that David minded. He'd laughed it off, thrilled with the fun of it all, and immediately set about finding ways to dump the icy contents of a water cooler over J's head.

 

David didn't mind anything, so long as it didn't ruin the fun. He would run from J not because he was frightened, but because now the game was hide and seek, and quick-witted ways of figuring out how to one-up one another while avoiding the assistants. Such was the way of life during the long stretches when they had been called to the set, but some chance of lighting, or set, or film forced them all into an hours-long waiting game.

 

David had grabbed him as soon as J could be heard swearing out his proclamations of retribution. It had occurred to Alexis after that he could have twisted his hand out of David's grasp, pointed out that there was no way to prove that it had been Alexis's idea to bring the dog onto the set, and that David was off on his own for this one. But he hadn't, he didn't, and he'd been laughing as David pulled him along, running as though the hounds of Hell were behind them.

 

Then they'd found the office. They'd slammed the door. Locked it. Stood there unsuccessfully trying to muffle the laughs that snaked through their out-of-breath gasps for air.

 

Looked at one another.

 

Then they were kissing again.

 

Alexis tells himself that he's lost count of how many times this has happened now. He knows the places, though, and can recite them by heart: on set, in the makeup department, deep in the stacks of the costume warehouse, the bathroom, the other bathroom, by David's car in a moment that might not have *actually* been a kiss but Alexis's pulse insisted that it was all the same, the set again, the meeting room, here.

 

He doesn't *count* them, though, because that would imply enjoyment. Willingness. A plan. It would suggest that he's doing it on purpose. That any time he and David have come together it's been because they *wanted* to do it.

 

Which of course isn't true. That's not what it is at all. This is amusement. Silliness. A game. Like all the times they've grabbed one another, wrestling, or tickled each other into breathlessness. It's the joking that happens between friends.

 

They do it to everyone else. Alexis remains confident of this fact. They *do*, even as the days go by and it becomes harder and harder to remember the last time anyone else was included in this kind of physicality.

 

But it's not on purpose. Not even this time, when David's hand had been resting on Alexis's hip, and Alexis had pushed into it, bringing them closer, bringing their bodies closer, and his pulse had been racing long before David's lips touched his own.

 

They're kissing. Slow. Deep. Wet. It's going on forever and Alexis doesn't want it to stop.

 

It's been forever since he's been with a man. It's been never, in the parlance of the industry where one can be gay on the stages of East Coast and straight on film sets of the West. Alexis hasn't been with a man since England. Which effectively means he's never been with one at all.

 

Not that any of them were ever serious. Some lasted, others didn't. But the women were exactly the same. He cared for some, only wanted to fuck others, had as much luck with good and bad breakups with either sex.

 

He's never denied it. He's never been asked. And then his heart and soul was consumed by Alyson.

 

He honestly thought that settled the matter of which side of the fence he fell on.

 

There were others, certainly, but that had been Aly's idea. Strong and seductive and beautiful - his own Playboy model, though she'd never gone that far with it. It had been her suggestion to try threesomes. She enjoyed them, as a matter of fact. She knew people. She had friends. And though they didn't stir his heart they were certainly beautiful enough to stir other organs, particularly with Aly's assistance, and thus the fun was had.

 

He'd offered to reciprocate the favor if she wished. That was how he'd told her of his past. They'd been in bed, his cock buried inside of the pure heat of her body, his fingertips twisting her nipples to the point of pleasure/pain, and he'd murmured, lust-drunk, into her ear that if she wanted to see him with another man, she only had to ask it. He'd put on the show for her. He'd do *anything* for her.

 

She'd come, nice and hard, and made sure he climaxed so violently that the world vanished for the better part of a minute, but she never said yes in reply.

 

On the other hand, she hadn't said no either.

 

Alexis thinks of that, as his teeth graze David's lips. As David's hands roam up and down his sides. This is beyond chaste. This is beyond even half-serious flirtation. It's about sex. Or it should be. His body is thrumming with it. Every inch of his skin is hot-wet-cold-tingling and he wants touch. He's dying for it. His cock is hard and there's no denying the urge, the need. He wants David. He wants more of what this is.

 

But David doesn't do more. Instead he kisses. He does nothing but kiss. His body is like a mountain, his hands and mouth confident and sure. He wants to kiss Alexis and do nothing but, and Alexis can't wriggle or tease anything more out of him.

 

And Alexis thinks that might drive him madder still.

 

He knows David. Knows the rumors. Knows, more importantly, the things which aren't rumors but *tone*. Vocabulary. The particular way that people say things like "David and". David and Sarah. David and Chris. David and the new girl in set design. "David and" has a tone of its own. One that suggests everyone knows the story, even if no one will ever talk about it. Alexis is a relative newcomer to this party. He *doesn't* know all of the tales. He supposes he could ask Alyson, but the curiosity that inspires it makes him too ashamed to even hint at the topic.

 

Still, he can guess.

 

He can guess that it's not uncommon for David to do these things. He can guess that David *has* taken his perks on the set, and that nobody dares question this. He's the star, it's his due.

 

But Alexis doesn't like it. It's a cavalier attitude that doesn't match up with the David that he knows, and for years he assumed it was sour grapes and jealousy that gave life to the implications.

 

This was, however, before the kissing.

 

Now he knows that David *does* do this, and he realizes that it's entirely possible that he's merely next on the list. One more name to add to "David and". Alexis doesn't even know if he has all of the names. Once the reality had set in (after the first time in the bathroom, but before the second) he found himself looking at his co-workers, wondering who among them knew. Who had been here, like this, locked in David's arms and discovering that his mouth could take someone so tenderly that they would start to moan before they even knew what was happening?

 

Were any of them looking at *him* and wondering the exact same thing?

 

He doesn't like it. It's not right.

 

He doesn't want to be a name.

 

Later on, when J's been called back to the set and the kissing is over, and it's a slow and slightly unsteady walk back to his trailer to cool down or shower or just flat-out jerk off to the taste of David that lingers on his lips that he remembers a few other caveats that probably should've been on his mind first:

 

It's not *honest*.

 

He doesn't want to be an adulterer.

 

He hasn't told Aly about any of this. Not one single word.

 

Time to put a stop to it then.

 

They have a winter break. Alexis thinks long and hard about it and knows that his feelings haven't changed. He's in love with her. He's in lust with her. He wants to be with her for the rest of his life, and he'll be blessed if she even gives him a fraction of that time. He acts on it. He's giddily surprised at the outcome.

 

When work starts again, he makes certain to tell David.

 

"I'm getting married," Alexis says in the privacy of David's trailer. It's the first words out of his mouth. Not even 'hello' or 'happy new year'.

 

David smiles. "Seriously? That's great! Congratulations."

 

"To Alyson," Alexis adds. He says the name like protection. Like a shield that will prevent anything from happening.

 

"Good thing," David says. "You do something stupid like pick anybody else and I'd have beaten the crap out of you."

 

It's all too normal. Too commonplace. David's talking as though they were friends - which they *are*, but still... "The wedding will probably be later this year."

 

"You two going to be home this weekend?" David asks. "I want to buy you brunch. Just the two of you. Something to celebrate. I'll have it sent to your house. I know a place. Trust me. It'll be fabulous."

 

"David!"

 

David blinks, utterly confused. "What?"

 

"I'm getting *married*," Alexis says.

 

"I know, congrats," David says.

 

Alexis steps forward. Closing the distance between them has proven to be a dangerous idea in the past, but this time it's deliberate. He wants David to acknowledge it, to remember that they *can't* be talking about this as though nothing has happened. "Do you understand what I'm saying?"

 

David holds up his left hand, which sports his wedding ring. "Pretty sure I've got the idea."

 

"No, I don't think you do," Alexis holds his own hands out, not touching David, but pushing the idea of him away. "David, we can't keep doing... what we've been doing. I'm engaged."

 

"And I'm married."

 

"It's not the same thing."

 

This earns him a quirk of an eyebrow. It also makes him feel incredibly stupid, particularly as David is not only married, but a father, and some of Jaden's toys are scattered about the trailer, along with enough photos of him and Jamie to pass for wallpaper.

 

"You know what I mean," Alexis says, by way of correction, or apology, or simply trying to dig himself out of this hole.

 

David doesn't seem bothered by any of it. "Is something wrong?"

 

It's the speech he's been reciting to himself for days now, but it's all he has left. "This has been a great deal of fun but we can't do this anymore. I'm engaged. I'm in love with Alyson. I'm - I'm not *gay*."

 

"Me neither."

 

"Then I'm not - " Alexis gestures helplessly. "This. Whatever this is. This joking and grabbing one another and flirting and *kissing*. That. I can't do *that* anymore, David. Please. It has to stop."

 

David shrugs. "Okay."

 

Alexis is momentarily stunned. "Okay?"

 

There's a knock on the door, and the muffled call for David to get back to the set. David responds to this by shrugging into Angel's jacket. "Yeah. Okay."

 

"You're certain?" Alexis asks. "It's not - I don't mean to be offensive about it. I *do* like you. And it's not that I didn't like... it. It's just - "

 

"You can't do it anymore," David says.

 

"Right," Alexis says.

 

"The flirting, the kissing, the grabbing, the joking around," David recites as he straightens his collar.

 

"Yes," Alexis says. "That's it exactly."

 

And then David is right in front of him, and there's the sharp bite of a countertop digging into his backside, and their lips are *so close* but David's not leaning in enough to make contact.

 

"You got it," David says, his voice so strong it could hold Alexis still all on its own. "Next time we do this, I'll be dead serious."

 

Then he's gone, back to the set, and Alexis stands there by himself and wonders if that's the answer he was looking for.


	3. (Not) Funny

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Neither Alexis nor David are as innocent as they look.

David doesn't touch him.

Not at all. Not in the slightest. It's like a children's book. He will not touch him by the stairs he will not touch him by the chairs. It's nothing. Absolutely nothing. Not a handshake, not a shoulder clasp, not a slap on the back to say job well done.

Alexis had no idea how much he and David touched each other in a given day until David took it upon himself to stop. And that doesn't even include the kissing, which of course has stopped along with everything else.

Now there's nothing. A void. Alexis thinks of it like the time he gave up smoking. Not allowing himself to have cigarettes was obvious. Not having something to do with his hands was an unforeseen side effect.

He's incredibly self-conscious of his hands now. In character he knows what to do. But once "cut!" is yelled he's left with two heavy objects at the end of his arms. He doesn't know how to manipulate them. Does he pat David on the back? Does he *avoid* patting David on the back? Does he fold his arms? Put his hands in his pockets? What in Hell *did* he do when he wasn't touching David?

He tries to watch his co-workers. He thinks Amy might be a good guideline, as she has never given any indication of wanting to fool around on the set, but then again he never thought David gave any indication of it either.

Did he? Did any of his co-workers look at *him* and think he might be interested?

Well, surely David must have. But Alexis doesn't think he gave such a look. Maybe if he hadn't been in a relationship, but he *was*. He was in love with Alyson, and had been for years. He wasn't in the market for anything else. That put an "off duty" sign above his head, didn't it?

They touch during scenes. It's part of the script. David's playing Angelus. He grabs him, manhandles him, there's even a bit of stunt work that David's too stubborn to allow anyone but himself to do, and Alexis can certainly handle taking a fall.

Things look normal on the set. They do their lines, joke around, occasionally make faces that crack each other up.

It's not the same, though. Alexis forgets his lines more often than he used to. And David looks at him in ways that have nothing to do with character.

The looks stay with him during the day. Alexis closes his eyes and sees David. Right there. Smiling at him. Tilting his head in the way he does that Alexis now knows means that David is about to kiss him.

Alexis has come to realize he spends a great deal of time staring at David's eyes, and his mouth. He's also come to realize that David does the same to him in turn.

No wonder they were forbidden from looking at one another.

They are the very models of virtue, though. Nothing passes between them which is not professional.

Alexis hates it so much he wants to throw things across the room.

One night he gets it into his head that *this* is now suspicious. That the studied way that they avoid one another is a tell-tale sign that something is going on. Alexis makes it halfway to David's trailer before he's struck by how stupid that sounds. *David, I think people are starting to suspect so would you please grope me again?*

The irony is he's pretty certain that he *could* tell David that, and David would find it as funny as he does.

Then again, there's the chance that the only words that will make it out of his mouth are the ones that start with "please" and end with "again".

Too much of a risk to try being alone with David. He sticks to group activities when everyone gets together in the off-hours. Alyson sometimes comes with, and Alexis prides himself in not being so much of an asshole that he puts his frustrated attentions onto her instead of the man that's causing them. There's no guilt-induced over-attention, or too-tight holding of hands. He can be with her and it's simply being with her. They talk about the engagement, the house that they're buying, what it's like juggling the schedule of two TV shows and Alyson's movie.

It nearly kills him when filming keeps Aly away for so long that they only see each other through notes, or phone calls snatched between takes.

It's worse still when her last words to him in person are "Have fun!", which part of him wants to spin into a picture-perfect rationalization that puts him right back into David's arms.

He doesn't even know if David still cares. David is, as always, a strange combination of openness and mystery. He wears so many emotions on his face, but the serious ones he keeps close to his heart. Alexis knew that David was in love with Jamie when he didn't crow about their relationship, but instead grew quiet, and simply said "Yeah" when someone asked if he would be seeing her again.

So David doesn't telegraph any desire for him. Or if he does Alexis is unaware of it. Which is entirely possible. He's starting to understand just how much he *doesn't* know about the world around him. He's used to certain labels making sense. Fidelity. Loyalty. Trust. Things that mean being in a relationship means *only* that relationship, and not going behind someone's back to have something on the side.

Which is why there can be nothing between him and David. Alexis tells himself this over and over again. There can be friendship, no more. Companionship, no more.

But when he's lying in bed by himself that's not what he's thinking. He's thinking of strong hands and warm lips and the sensation of floating that only comes after they've kissed one another for the space of several breaths and David laughs, not cruelly, but happily. As though the kiss was somehow a surprise to be found in the middle of the day.

Alexis can't sleep without help anymore. Alyson being gone makes it shamefully easy for him to wrap a hand around his dick, stroke it up and down, try to do it quickly so his mind can't linger but each and every time he fails because in his imagination it's *David's* hand, and he's slipped it into Alexis's jeans as they're locked together on-set where quite possibly everyone can see but David doesn't care because he *needs* to get Alexis to come for him.

It wasn't much at first, but as the nights go by the fantasy becomes more and more deliberate. It's a planned event, with lotion and tissues, and he lies on his side with one hand fisting his cock and the other sliding fingers into his backside (no toys, never toys. Toys are shared with Alyson and he considers it cheating on her to use them) as he pictures David doing this. Pictures everything from the smile of greeting to bending him over the countertop in his trailer and fucking him slowly, stroking his dick, kissing his neck and shoulders and just *doing* it. Ending the tease and the wait and just *taking* him.

He doesn't picture the climax. He can't. He has no idea what would happen after that. It's bad enough that he's becoming obsessed with during. Sometimes he tries to fix it, tries to put Alyson into David's place, or even the bodies of porn stars that he watches on cable. It's not enough. He knows what David tastes like, and his mind won't settle for anything else.

He calls up an old friend in London. He speaks of the problem in abstracts. He gets no help in return. Instead, "But *aren't* you bi?"

"Not like that," Alexis says.

"Because there's a girl now."

"I believe in monogamy," Alexis insists.

"Doesn't sound like your dick agrees with you."

Alexis wants to argue that that's besides the point, but when the time comes for his daily jerk-off session he admits to himself that he is, literally, putting his fingers on the heart of the problem.

There is still room for intellect, he thinks. A better path than giving in to base urges. One thing to masturbate to the idea of someone, still another to go after that person.

He thinks that he can get it out of his system. Indulge the idea for the time that Aly is away, and when she comes back he'll be better.

This thought doesn't survive long once he gets back on the set.

On the set David continues to not touch him, but he's turned it into a new game. A childish one. He does it in front of everybody, waggling his fingers mere inches away from Alexis as he laughs, and everyone laughs, and everyone understands the joke of driving someone mad *because* you're not making contact.

Only Alexis knows that they have no idea just how much David affects him.

"Stop it," Alexis finally says. He's grabbed David by the shirt, which is an unforgivable offense of etiquette between an underling and a star, but David never possessed an ego about his job title and Alexis is too angry to care.

They're behind the set walls. Effectively alone amongst the wood dust, wires, and chaos that makes plaster and faux finishing look like an Art Deco hotel.

"Stop what?" David asks.

"*This*," Alexis says. He shakes David's shirt in his hand, the action doing absolutely nothing to move the muscular body underneath it. "This. Stop it."

"I already stopped it," David says. "You told me to."

"I can't stand it," Alexis tells him.

"Changing your mind?" David asks.

"Yes. No. *No*," Alexis says, stuttering his way back onto the road of morals. "I'm not. We can't do this."

"Do you want to?"

It takes too long before Alexis says, "That's not the point."

David doesn't speak his reply. Instead his head tilts, he leans in. Alexis moves his own mouth up, recognizing the start of a kiss. They almost reach before -

"No," Alexis puts his hand up in between them. "No. David, I told you no."

"You said you couldn't take the joking around," David replies.

"I mean it," Alexis says.

David's hand brushes against Alexis's jawline. "Then I'm completely serious."

Alexis doesn't resist him as their bodies come together, though he whispers "Damn it" just before their lips touch.

  
Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters and settings are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. No money is being made from this work. No copyright infringement is intended.


	4. Politics

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Neither Alexis nor David are as innocent as they look.

They're inside of David's trailer. Alexis hasn't been there since telling David about the engagement. Or, more accurately to the way Alexis's mind classifies it, since the day David shoved him up against the counter and made Alexis so hard that there had been a very real likelihood that David's trailer would have gotten to watch Alexis masturbate long before David himself was given the opportunity.

There's no shoving at the moment, though. Alexis occasionally thinks that there's something wrong about that, but currently he's too busy talking and pacing back and forth in the few feet of space that David's trailer has for any kind of moving around to allow his thoughts to linger too long on the absolute certainty that if David started pushing him there would be no chance whatsoever that Alexis would push back.

David, for his part, is sprawled on the couch.

"What *is* this?" Alexis asks him. It's the third or fourth time he's volleyed the question. So far none of the answers are working for him. It's like wanting to know what a freckle is and getting speeches on melanin when really all that was needed was some comment about it being a mark and possibly a reassurance that it was in no way cancerous.

"You want something?" David asks, too friendly for the words to be a double entendre. "Coffee? Smoke?"

"I've given up cigarettes," Alexis tells him, though he feels certain he could finish off a pack right then and there and still be ready for more.

David keeps going. "Water? Pot?"

"Oh yes, let's bring *drugs* into this," Alexis says. "It's the only thing that's missing in this complete Hollywood cliché that my life has become. In fact, why don't we skip over all of this and go straight for whatever's going to be sending me into rehab? What is that, these days? I assume cocaine isn't considered sexy anymore."

"You know pot won't kill you nearly as bad as smoking," David points out.

Alexis sighs. He leans against the countertop, six inches from where David could have taken him if he wanted. "I know."

"Not saying you *have* to have a joint."

"I know."

"Just saying if you need it," David finishes.

"Do I *really* strike you as someone who's going to be dealing with this conversation better if he's stoned?" Alexis asks.

David considers it, then grins his perfect grin. "No."

Alexis folds his arms. He twists around, putting his ass against the counter and yes, by God, he's *going* to get a fetish for olive green Formica or linoleum or whatever the Hell it is that they make countertops out of because his cock is already stirring awake and the only contact that's happened so far is between him and the possibly made of plastic interior design.

"What *is* this?" Alexis asks again.

"Would you like a beer?" David offers.

"God *yes*," Alexis agrees.

David doesn't even have to stand up to open the refrigerator and retrieve a couple of bottles. He opens them before offering one out to Alexis.

Alexis takes several long swallows. He ponders the aftertaste before adding a few more swallows to the mix.

"What *is* this?" he asks yet again.

"I had no idea you were this wound up," David says. He's the picture of comfort. His arms are spread over the back of the couch, his legs drawn apart enough to leave plenty of room for either the tripod that is his cock or simply for the Holy Spirit. "It's kind of cute."

"I'm *very* wound up," Alexis says. "I am *extraordinarily* wound up. Compared to *normal* people I'm wound up. Compared to *you*... I actually don't even have a metaphor."

David drinks from his bottle. "That's kind of a turn-on."

"Stop that right now," Alexis points at him, jabbing his finger towards every place of distraction. "You do not get to sit there, like *that*, be *that* way, dress like *that*, and put flirting on top of it."

David looks down at himself. He's out of costume, which means he's currently wearing worn jeans and a red shirt with pink polka-dots. "Dress like what?"

"Like *you*," Alexis says.

"Unless somebody's giving me a paycheck, that's pretty much the *only* person I dress like."

"Yes, and it's distracting," Alexis tells him. "I'm trying to have a conversation and the entire time my mind is telling me I could be on my knees and unbuttoning that shirt."

David's mouth quirks in a smile. "Really?"

"With my *teeth*," Alexis confirms.

"And the thing that's stopping you is...?"

"What *is* this?"

David sits forward. "I'm not trying to freak you out."

"Freaked was several sessions of your tongue in my mouth ago," Alexis says. Then, "God, I'm even starting to talk like you."

"I'm not into badness," David says. "If there's a vibe here, or a breeze blowing the wrong way, then we don't have to do it."

"I know," Alexis says.

"I'm not trying to make you a Lifetime movie of the week," David says.

"Which is good as I've no desire to suddenly grow a vagina," Alexis replies.

"I do want to fuck you though," David says.

"That's not helping me think," Alexis says, "but thank you."

"What's to think about?" David asks.

"What *is* - "

"Okay, that, all right," David says. He shrugs. "What's it need to be?"

Alexis runs a hand through his hair. "I don't know. I've never done this before. I don't *do* this. What is it *supposed* to be?"

"Whatever we want," David says.

"I don't know what I want," Alexis tells him. "Yes, you naked and God if I don't find out what your cock feels like by the end of this I think I'm going to have to quit or go insane but *beyond* that - " Alexis squares his shoulders. "David, if this is you taking a star perk then tell me. I won't be angry. I just need to know."

David holds up a hand. "For the record? That question nearly pissed me off."

Alexis sees that he's serious. "I'm sorry."

"I'm only telling you because I think you know I don't normally get mad," David says.

"What's that moment in cartoons?" Alexis asks. He gestures at his face. "There'd be a donkey head right about here now, wouldn't there?"

David laughs. "You're not a jackass."

"For what it's worth I never believed all the rumors were true," Alexis says.

"Some of them are," David says. "I have *slept* with people, but it's not a star trip thing. I do it because I like them."

Alexis feels a tightness in his chest. "Are there many?"

David shakes his head. "Some. Not many. And the only person I'm fucking right now is Jamie."

Alexis tells himself he doesn't want to know the answer to this question. He asks it anyway. "Am I the only person *besides* Jamie that you'd like to fuck right now?"

David nods. "Yep."

"Are you sure?"

"Yep."

"Because you and Stephanie - "

"Just a rumor."

"And that girl - "

"Claire."

"Claire, in set design."

"Just friends."

"And you and Vincent?"

David laughs outright at that one. "Taken."

Alexis blinks. "What?"

"Taken," David repeats. "By a cast member whose carpets don't match his curtains."

Alexis frowns at that. "Who on our cast - "

"The *other* cast."

"The - " Alexis's mind turns several times before he guesses the name. "*Really*?"

"Yep."

"I wouldn't have thought him to be James's type."

"Pretty sure neither did James," David says.

"Nobody else?" Alexis asks.

"I don't fuck my way around the set," David says.

Alexis sits down at the tiny table that passes for a dining room. If he reached out one hand he could run it along the inside of David's left thigh. "I don't either."

"Didn't think you did," David says.

"David, I'm *engaged*," Alexis says. "I'm in love with Alyson. I don't want to break up with her."

"Good thing," David says. "I don't think you should either."

"So you're married, I'm going to be married, and we're going to fuck one another," Alexis says.

David takes a swallow of his beer. "Pretty much."

"I don't *do* this," Alexis says.

"Nobody's saying you have to," David assures him.

Alexis faces him. He puts a hand on David's knee, making the desire a real and palpable thing between them. "I *want* to."

David studies him. "Alex, don't take this the wrong way - hit me right in the face if you want - but don't you and Aly... you know, share the wealth?"

It's several moments before Alexis realizes what David's talking about. "I - how did you *know?*"

David shrugs. "I hear things."

"It's not the same," Alexis says.

"Why?"

"That's threesomes," Alexis says.

"And this is?"

"I want you to myself."

The words sit between them for several heartbeats.

"Well," David says, in his philosophical manner, "think that answers part of your question."

Alexis groans. He puts a hand to his eyes. Then, finding that it doesn't sufficiently blind him, he presses both hands in.

"What's wrong?" David asks.

"I grew up in the Reagan era, you do *realize* that, right?"

David's laughing again. That warm chuckle that Alexis only now realizes has always made him very weak in the knees and hard in the dick. "*What?*"

Alexis drops his hands down to the table. "The Reagan era, David. I'm a product of it."

David seems to be going along for the sake of going along. "Okay."

"*You*, on the other hand, are Clinton," Alexis says.

"I don't know what you're getting off the internet these days," David says, "but I'm not *that* much younger than you."

"Doesn't matter," Alexis says.

"Because I'm Clinton," David says.

"Right."

"And you're Reagan."

"Correct."

"Alex, are you trying to tell me you're a Republican?"

"No," Alexis says. He shakes himself. "God no. I mean in *morality*."

David shifts his weight. He's slumped over onto his left side, his arm resting against the table. "You have Reagan morals."

"*Yes*," Alexis says, glad this is getting across.

"You know, you *are* starting to talk like me."

"Just say no," Alexis says. "Denial. Obligations. Being mature enough to recognize that simply because we *want* to do something doesn't mean that we *should*."

"Yeah, okay," David nods. "That's very 80s flashback. I'm with you so far."

Alexis waves a hand in David's direction. "It's okay as long as you didn't inhale. It all depends on your definition of what the word 'is' is. If it feels good, do it."

"Pretty sure that last one was the 60s."

"Same idea," Alexis says.

"Might have been the 70s."

"Whatever."

"Also if you don't actually *inhale* the pot you're kind of wasting your time," David says.

"I'm talking about the *concept*, David."

"And I don't want to *is* you so much as *fuck* you," David continues. He's got the smile going again. "Kiss you too, because you're pretty good at that."

Alexis rubs his temples. "Don't distract me with the idea of sucking your tongue down my throat."

"Because you're Reagan."

"Yes."

"Which means only one relationship at a time."

"*Yes*."

"Didn't you spend like half your life in England?"

"That doesn't help nearly as much as you think it would," Alexis says.

"We could just be friends," David says.

Alexis gets up. He slides himself onto David's lap. He grabs David by his soft, post-shooting washed hair and kisses him. It's not nearly as suave as he'd like. Their noses crush together. Their teeth occasionally bump. But it's his mouth and David's mouth and that's all that's needed to get his cock sitting up and going yes, please.

"I want to be fucked by you so badly I'm finding it hard to sleep," Alexis tells him.

"I don't want to screw up your life," David says. His hand is on the small of Alexis's back. It's firm and steady, holding him so he won't fall onto the floor. "I'm not going to do this if it screws up your life."

"I don't know what it's going to do," Alexis says. He's never purposefully been this close to David before. He finds himself memorizing the details. "But I want it. Whatever this is, I want it."

David's brown eyes study him. "Sure?"

Alexis nods. His heart is thundering, but he knows he'd be lying if he said anything but "Yes."

David answers with another kiss. Only this time there's more touching. David's free hand on his chest, a sure thumb flicking across Alexis's nipples, his other hand moving down and cupping Alexis by the ass and rocking him forward until -

"Holy - " Alexis gasps, swallows, struggles for breath. "David, I - "

"Not here," David says.

Alexis hears the proverbial record needle scratch across his libido's LP. "What?"

"Not here," David repeats. He kisses the side of Alexis's face. "This isn't a star fuck. We're not sneaking it in between takes. Besides, I gotta pick up Jaden from a play date."

Alexis tries to revive his shorted-out brain. "I - when?"

"Not sure yet," David admits. He moves a hand up, caressing Alexis's neck. "I'll think of something."

"Aly's going to be home soon," Alexis warns him.

"I'll bear it in mind," David promises.

They kiss again. It's still warm, but without urgency. Alexis clings to him anyway, not wanting to lose the reality of what he's committed himself too.

They detangle. David deposits him onto the couch as he stands up, gathers his things to go.

Alexis thinks that maybe he can be bolder now, admit what he's feeling. "I still want you to grope me on the set."

"Was planning on it," David says. He fixes his hair in a mirror. "You ever gonna show me that removing my shirt with your teeth thing?"

Alexis slumps down. He mimics David's broad-armed, spread-legged pose. "Was planning on it."

David grins. "I'll get us something. Promise."

"Soon," Alexis reminds him.

"Soon," David agrees. He comes over. Bends down for another wet, open-mouthed kiss. "Trust me, you're not the only one losing sleep."

It's Alexis's turn to grin at that, and this time David's trailer *does* enjoy the view.

  
Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters and settings are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. No money is being made from this work. No copyright infringement is intended.


	5. Whatever Happens

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Neither Alexis nor David are as innocent as they look.

A pinprick of ice lives in Alexis's stomach.

It's been there for days. Since the day David glanced at him while they were on the set and Alexis knew, *knew* that "soon" now had a date. There was a time, a place. It was real. It was a plan.

It was in that moment that Alexis felt absolutely terrified.

Alexis tells himself over and over that this doesn't have to happen. It's only words. Cocky words, appropriately enough. Kiss-drunk ravings that made him say yes, he wants this, yes, he'll go mad without it.

They haven't been kissing lately, though that's not due to planning. It's the schedule. There isn't a free moment available. Not a second to themselves.

Alexis thinks maybe this is the universe's way of reminding him of how things are supposed to be. David is a friend. David should *only* be a friend. There shouldn't be more than that, no matter how often Alexis's body tingles whenever David is near.

Alexis writes a lot of emails in his head. He mentally dials David's cellphone over and over again. He knows the start of it by heart: David, I've been thinking...

But Alexis doesn't type a single letter, and David's cell never sees a record of Alexis's ID in the log of missed calls.

Instead, Alexis has his ice. It keeps him awake at night, and ironically wishing he could talk to David and ask his advice simply as a friend.

David doesn't tell Alexis what the plan is, but when the weekend for the bachelor party arrives, Alexis knows that this is when it will happen.

It's not his own bachelor party, though it's a good enough preview of it. Bachelor parties mean chartering a plane and flying out to Vegas. It's a tradition that's mired in the history of the other set, and Alexis doesn't even know whose wedding was the first to set it off. Regardless, any man working on either show knows to expect it.

This time the connection is more nebulous. It's a friend of Mike's who's only worked with them a handful of times. But Mike is close to everyone, his friends are their friends, and everyone is happy to grab onto the excuse to party and get away from the doom and gloom of the season.

Alexis later finds out that David made sure to front a great deal of the cost, since he makes more than Mike does.

None of them are rich, however, which is why it is also a tradition for them to pair up for rooms. The ice in Alexis's stomach expects this when they arrive at the hotel. David's at the check-in desk, chatting in his big-smiled way with the woman who's handling the details. Alexis watches as she slides plastic keys in paper envelopes across the counter, tapping them with manicured fingernails as she explains which room is which.

Mike and his friend get a suite. The rest of them have to split more mundane accommodations.

Alexis grips the nylon strap of his carry-on bag with a clammy palm. He braces himself as David comes over, readying for the moment that David will hand him his key and say -

"Andy, you're with me."

Alexis blinks. He blinks again. Andy, who comes for the gambling and the fun of any party regardless of the focus, is taking a key from David. The two of them are already talking about who gets which bed.

"Looks like we're roomies," Jay says. He frowns when Alexis doesn't respond right away. "You okay?"

Alexis forces himself to stop looking at David. "Yes. Fine. I'm just a little tired."

"If you say so," Jay says.

Alexis has no idea if either one of them is telling the truth.

***

He calls Alyson from the room. Her voice is sweet, and teasing. While Jay's in the bathroom they talk about what they would do if she was the surprise guest for the strip show. The conversation turns dirty on both their parts. It's almost enough for him to want to go home - or at least have a room to himself.

Aly torments him when Jay comes out of the bathroom, whispering pornographic things into Alexis's ear that he can't possibly respond to while someone other than Aly can hear him. He contents himself with promises of revenge, to which Aly merely replies with obscene suggestions on how he could keep his word.

When he hangs up he feels happier, but the ice in his stomach hasn't gone away. With shame he realizes it's because he feels disappointed that David's not there.

***

The party is loud and perfect. It begins with slot machines, moves on to poker, includes a ride in a stretch Humvee, and winds up in a strip club by their hotel where they've booked a private room.

David's enjoying himself. Alexis can tell that by the smile on his face, and the way that he dances with moves so ridiculous that he cracks himself up long before anybody else starts to laugh. David buys rounds for their group, does elaborate improvised conversations with the strippers where he pretends not to know what they do for a living, and sings along to songs in Spanish that he knows absolutely none of the words to.

The guest of honor is also enjoying the party, but Alexis finds he couldn't care less about him.

Alexis keeps to the back. He answers "tired" to anyone who asks him why he's not in the middle of things. After a while the response evolves. He didn't sleep last night. He's not feeling one hundred percent. He's got a headache. He might be coming down with something. He's thinks he's got a case of the flu.

His friends are friends but they're also men. They take the excuses without question and then leap back into the fray, happy to have done their obligation to a fallen comrade. Of them all the only one who might look at him doubtfully is Andy, and he's currently onstage serenading a woman who doesn't yet understand that she can gyrate against him all she likes, it won't do any good.

Alexis sits by himself. He sips a whisky, which at some point he claimed to be doing for medicinal purposes because he was coming down with a cough. He's not drunk, though there's enough smoke in the room to make him mourn for a cigarette to cap off a proper buzz. His head *does* hurt, now, and he thinks about calling it a night.

At some point he loses sight of David. It's at the same exact moment when he realizes that he's been doing nothing *but* looking at David. He curses his denial and lack of discretion in one breath and wonders what in Hell he thinks he's doing.

He's ready to give up and go back to his room when a large shadow slumps down into a chair beside him.

"You sick?" David asks.

"I - " Alexis doesn't know how to answer. He goes for something like truth. "My head hurts."

"Music too much?" David asks.

"Maybe," Alexis says.

There's applause and cheering by the stage. Andy steps off, waving to the crowd like royalty as he gives way for the next round of strippers to do their set.

David shouts and hoots his approval with a boisterous "Way to go, Andy!" before adding, in a much more normal voice, "You wanna go with me?"

It takes Alexis a second to understand that the question's being addressed to him. It's another shockwave of understanding to realize that there's hidden meaning in the tone.

"*With* you?" Alexis repeats, pinning volumes of hope on the emphasis of a single word.

"I'm serious," David replies, with a look in his eyes that says he's well aware of what the word "serious" has come to mean between them.

The pinprick of ice becomes a hailstorm. Alexis's stomach hurts. His entire body flashes cold. One hand jerks into a fist as he thinks: No. This is a bad idea. David, we shouldn't do this. Let's stop now, and forget this ever happened.

Out loud he says, "Yes."

David's answering smile makes him feel dizzier than the whisky has managed to.

The world blurs. Alexis is lost in a chaos of wondering the right order to stand, get their things, and make an exit. Do they do it at the same time? Separately? How long should one of them wait so no one has any idea that they're actually leaving together?

David isn't nearly so troubled. "Andy!" he calls out, loud enough to be heard over the ear-numbing sound of bass that's rumbling from the speakers. "Give Alex your key!"

Andy detangles himself from the clot of people by the stage. His face is flushed from singing and one too many martinis. "What?"

"Give Alex your key," David says. "We're leaving."

Andy gives David his martini to hold, then starts patting down his pockets. "Everything okay?"

"He's not feeling good and I've got an early call on Monday," David says. He grins as he adds, "*Some* of us can't hide our weekend crimes with an extra coat of green."

"Lemme tell you something," Andy replies, "if *that* was all the green was for, I'd live a life sin-free. Here ya go."

The last part is addressed to Alexis as Andy holds out the magnetic card to the room. Alexis stares at it, thinking that this is the part in the video game of his life where either he's about to find the greatest prize, or destroy himself in a gory mess without any hope of an extra turn or a do-over.

"Give Andy *your* key," David prompts. He pats Alexis on the back, giving Andy a look of "see what I mean?" "Told you he wasn't feeling well."

"OJ," Andy advises. "And plenty of rest."

"Right, yes," Alexis says, though lips that feel numb. His body spasms into motion, taking Andy's key and managing to produce his own. "Here. I - my things, I'll -"

"He'll grab 'em in the morning," David says.

Andy waves it off. "I'm not planning on coming back *until* the morning, if that. Take your time. I'll get my stuff before we go."

"Thank you," Alexis tells Andy. He doesn't know if that's even the right response given what they've been saying, but it's all he can come up with.

They leave. Alexis gives game replies to well-wishers. David is more outgoing, glad-handing his way through the group and making sure everyone serving the party has been properly tipped.

They leave the club, emerging owlishly into the bright Vegas lights that nearly blind them for the short distance it takes to walk back to their hotel.

Inside the hotel Alexis keeps his eyes on the carpeting. He fills his vision with blue and green squares, too worried to wonder what would happen if he looked at the man standing a half foot away from him.

They reach the elevator. Others are already there, waiting. The doors chime open and they step inside.

Their rooms are near the top floor. Alexis and David stand in opposite corners, pressed into place by the crowd. No one talks as the elevator slowly climbs upward, stopping to let out passengers along the way.

Alexis starts to talk himself out of it again. The ice is now a hard knot. He entertains the thought of going back downstairs, switching keys with Andy again, finding some way to get out of all this.

A thumping sound distracts him. He looks up. Everyone in the elevator faces forward, keeping an unfocused gaze at the floor numbers as they light up. Except for David, who's also watching the numbers but his head is bobbing, as if to music only he can hear.

David's hands are behind his back, and Alexis realizes that the thumping is coming from him.

A few moments later, Alexis realizes that David is drumming out the rhythm for "Louie Louie".

David's so absurdly wrapped up in it that Alexis snickers before he can stop himself. Then he snorts. Then he starts coughing to cover up the fact that he's laughing outright. People look at him anyway, but when David looks he does it with a delighted smile. He taps his fingers, adding extra flourish - ba DA ba DA ba da-da ba da-da ba da-DA da-DA ba - and Alexis sees nothing on David's face except the happiness that someone else is enjoying the music along with him.

A certain tension leaves Alexis's shoulders as he realizes that yes, he is.

It's not coldness that keeps Alexis company for the rest of the ride, but rather the Kingsmen. Alexis sings along in his head, his own hand tapping out some of the sound as for what is easily the thousandth time he wonders if the correct line is "We gotta go" or "Me gotta go". He's halfway to making a mental note to ask Pat, one of his musician friends, when a whistle catches his attention.

"Hey, Denisof," David says, "hold the door, would ya?"

Alexis shakes the fog out of his head. He and David are alone in the elevator, save for a woman who looks to be north of her 70s and who is trying to juggle a walker and a bag of souvenirs.

"You don't have to," the woman says.

"It's okay, I don't mind," David says. He takes the bag, making a grand and gallant gesture towards the hallway. "Besides, whenever I come to Vegas I like to flirt with beautiful women."

The woman laughs. She makes her way forward, carefully positioning the walker as she goes.

Alexis leans on the "Door open" button. He watches as David walks her to her room, giving no sign that he's in any way bothered by the creeping pace. He can't hear what they're saying, but David's posture is open and friendly, and occasionally bursts of laughter shake the shoulders of them both. David then waves off what looks like the offer of a tip, but does accept a kiss on the cheek.

"She's got a nephew who knows a guy who went to high school with my cousin," David says when he comes back.

Alexis lets go of the button. "You knew that when you saw her?"

"Nah, just found out," David says. "Funny who you run into, huh?"

"You told her who you were?" Alexis asks.

David shrugs. "Seemed polite."

The elevator deposits them on David's floor. David leads the way, flipping his key card over and over between his fingers. Alexis watches this bit of dexterity, and thinks that David must be quite sober in order to pull it off without dropping the card to the floor.

The room is dark when they reach it. David turns a light on by the bathroom, then starts closing the curtains.

"Shove Andy's stuff out of the way if you want," David says. "Mine too. Want anything from room service?"

Alexis hovers in the entranceway. The door to the room shuts behind him with a clatter that feels damning and conspicuous. "David, you told that woman who you were."

David empties his pants pockets. Spare change, wallet, and cell phone get left on the small table by the TV. "Tell a lot of people who I am."

Alexis steps forward. "You said who *I* was. You used my last name."

"Didn't know we were undercover," David says.

"You don't think we *should* be?" Alexis asks.

"We're not *spies*, Alex." A grin splits David's face. "Or are we? You wanna play spies?"

"We aren't spies," Alexis says.

"We could be," David says. He sits down on the bed closest to the window. "Is this like action movie or cold war?"

"David - "

"Cold war could be fun," David says. "I could be something outta Clancy and you could do a Russian accent."

"I am not doing a Russian accent," Alexis says.

David's shoulders slump. "Not even for me?"

"That's not the *point*," Alexis says.

"There's a point now?" David asks.

"Yes," Alexis begins to pace about the room. His well rehearsed speech comes easily to his lips, though he modifies some of the words for their present situation. "David, I've been thinking. This isn't a wise idea. You and I have obligations, and moreover this is a *danger*. If anyone were to see us or suspect what we are doing it… David, what *are* you doing?"

David's left hand drops his shirt to the floor. His chest is now completely bare. He then kicks off his shoes. "I'm getting undressed."

Alexis grinds to a halt. "But we're talking."

"You're talking," David says. One green and orange striped sock comes off, then the other. "Way I see it, that's what you do before you get ready for getting up close and personal with me. You do nervous chatter, I take my clothes off. I figure if I take my clothes off while you're doing the chattering, we can both be done at the same time and then get right into it."

Alexis opens and closes his mouth several times. Then he asks, "If I keep talking, are the pants next?"

David hooks a thumb behind his belt buckle. He gives Alexis a lazy smile. "Find out."

It's several breaths before Alexis can ask, "Is there ice in your bucket?"

"Probably melted by now," David says.

"It'll do," Alexis goes into the vestibule by the bathroom and fixes himself a glass of liquid that holds only the faintest memory of what being frozen used to be like. He takes several long swallows, then fixes himself another.

"You okay?" David asks.

Alexis stares at himself in the mirror. "David, this is *dangerous*."

"I brought condoms."

"Please stop telling me how much you planned for this."

"Why?"

"Because it's turning me on."

"That's not the point?"

Alexis rejoins him, glass of melted ice in hand. "The point is that this isn't safe."

"Because I used my real name," David says. "And yours."

"People could know who we are," Alexis says. "They could guess."

David rubs his face tiredly. "You're that worried about people finding out you were with me?"

Alexis can immediately tell that David doesn't get it. "No, I'm worried about people finding out that *I* was with *you*."

"Isn't that what I just said?" David asks.

Alexis sits on the bed closest to the bathroom. He puts his glass on the nightstand, then faces David. "No, it's not. I don't care about people finding out about what *I* do. To be frank, neither does anyone else. I'm not newsworthy. I'm barely worthy of getting my own name on a photo of me on the red carpet next to Alyson. But *you* - David, you're the star. It's your name on the show. If one whiff of scandal hit you and made its way back to the network, you could be in serious trouble."

David tilts his head. Puzzlement shapes his face. "You're worried about *me*?"

"Of course," Alexis says.

"Not you."

"David, nobody *cares*," Alexis reminds him.

"If you want to talk my pants off do it quick," David says. "Because I'm about to jump you."

Alexis quickly stands, holding his hands out in front of him to ward David off. "I mean it."

David stands as well. "So do I."

"You could be *caught*," Alexis says, stepping back. "The suits would tear you to shreds."

David closes the distance. "I don't care."

There's a wall behind Alexis now. Alexis abstractly wonders how often his arousal near David has put him quite literally in between a rock and a hard place. Then abstract thoughts become difficult as he starts to feel the warmth of David's skin, and David's mouth hovers close to his own.

"This is a bad idea," Alexis says, clinging to his speech when all other words fail him. "We - we could be seen. Or…someone could… could notice us…"

"What I don't get," David says, resting his arms on the wall, his body now one push-up away from being right on top of Alexis's, "is that you're not usually a wound-up guy. I've watched you prance around in tights, a leotard, and a bright red G-string. Why does *this* freak you out so much?"

"Because it's serious," Alexis replies, and he's not at all surprised when that's the last thing spoken before they start to kiss.

This isn't the on the set kissing. It's not playful. It's teasing, but of a different kind. Alexis feels himself be engulfed in David's heat as David devours him, open-mouthed and slow and wet. It's not long before Alexis is moaning, and clinging to him, and writhing his hips against David's thigh.

David goes lower. Down to Alexis's neck which for the two of them is virgin territory. Alexis's head falls back against the wall as for the first time he feels David's lips on the column of his throat, moving up and down with feathery kisses, and tiny bites. Then David's mouth forms a circle at the angle between neck and shoulder. He sucks, pulling at the skin in a way that's strong and steady.

Alexis tightens his hands on David's back, digging in fingernails as the pull becomes painful and Alexis thinks that maybe it will leave a mark. He makes a noise that's not even a syllable of protest before giving up, scratching at the long expanse of David's bare skin and making other noises that are nothing like disagreement and absolutely nothing like dignity.

"Shirt," David says. It's the only preamble before David's hands tug Alexis's T-shirt out of his jeans, then snake underneath the cloth to rub and caress Alexis's back and front.

Alexis bends his head, taking David's mouth in kisses that he doesn't want to stop. He feels self-conscious, and awkward. But then David moans into him, sending vibrations all over Alexis's body.

"Want you," David says. He's tugging at the shirt harder now, as though he's forgotten how to remove it. "Been driving me nuts all day."

"I've been thinking about it too," Alexis admits, feeling the spark of desire that had laid behind the icy wall of fear. The ice is gone now. Melted, like the water in the glass, puddling in his abdomen and turning into slow boil that's sinking down into his cock. "All day. All week. For *months*."

David laughs. He catches Alexis's lower lip between his teeth. Perhaps he might have said something, but Alexis gasps at the bite, and then they're kissing once more.

They tangle together. David's broad arms wrapped around Alexis's body, Alexis's hands in David's hair. Legs thrust in between each other's as their tongues slide back and forth in a lazy dance.

Alexis is hard. Rock hard. His cock might even be leaking at the tip already, he can't tell. He can feel David's cock, though. It's firm, and pressing against his hip. Alexis twists, giving David a tiny taste of friction because that's all the room he has to move in. He keeps at it with a thrust-thrust-thrust because that's *David's* cock and he's been dying to touch it and feel it for so damned long now and he *wants* it, wants to make it ache and throb and harden and -

"Stop that. Right now." David says. He's breathing hard. Alexis has never seen David's eyes go so dark. The hands on Alexis's body are trembling. "I don't want to lose it yet."

Alexis marvels at the sight that's directly out of the porn films that have been playing almost non-stop in his mind. He's oddly clear-headed, and very aware of what he is doing. The moment stretches out between them, and Alexis feels confident that as aroused as they both are, he could still leave and David would understand.

"Fuck me," Alexis says, crossing the line and doing it deliberately. "Take my clothes off and get me into bed."

David does it in reverse order. It takes only a half-turn to push Alexis down onto the mattress. Then it's a scramble/crawl up towards the pillows, kissing each other all the way. Alexis fumbles at the buckle for David's pants. David continues to pull at Alexis's shirt.

"Two seconds and I'm ripping this off," David warns, his fingers tangled up near the right shirtsleeve.

Alexis is achingly tempted to let him. It's been so long since he's been with a man that the mere thought of such a display of testosterone goes right to the core of him, making his cock twitch and beg like a dog hearing it's master's voice. He doesn't want to get lost in the practicalities of whether or not David really *can* tear through a shirt, though, so he sits back just enough to yank the shirt up and over his head. Then he kicks off his loafers, reaching down to get at the socks and drop them to the floor. All the while David nuzzles and kisses his ear.

"I mean it," Alexis says, once he can turn back to him. "Fuck me."

"Definitely on the menu," David promises.

David's hands move down, and again it's virgin territory for them both. For all the attraction between them, they've never even gone past second base. For the first time Alexis feels David massaging his thighs, and his hips. Strong thumbs slide along the inseam of his jeans. David's mouth breathes warm air through the thickness of the button fly. Alexis closes his eyes, twisting his hands into the comforter as his hips rise off of the bed and into that welcome furnace.

David presses him back down. His fingers pop the fly open and Alexis gets even harder as he thinks yes, David touching him, David jerking him off, right out of the fantasy, yes.

But David's not interested in a hand job. He does pull Alexis's cock out of his boxers, and he does wrap his right hand around the base of the shaft, but then he bends down, taking Alexis's cock into his mouth, and begins to suck and lick at him.

Alexis hyperventilates. He wants to look away from this too-obscene view of his cock sliding in and out of David's lips but it's not possible. It's like looking away from the light of the sun. It's too brilliant, and Alexis doesn't care if it ends up blinding him.

David is skilled. His hand squeezes. His tongue traces patterns that might or might not be letters. His lips and teeth tickle at the tip, and the slit that is now, yes, definitely losing control of the first few drops of come. Alexis frees a hand, grabbing David by the hair to - to what? Order him about? Force him to go faster? David is doing so well all on his own that thoughts of what Alexis might suggest fall far into the back of his head, never to be spoken.

Instead Alexis tries to reciprocate. He stretches his hand down, cupping the front of David's pants, then pulling the zipper down so he can go directly inside. He sucks in a breath as he feels the hot velvet of David's erection. His hand stills at the overwhelming reality.

"Alex," David says, his voice soft. The tremble is back in his hands. "Don't tease."

It's enough to get him going. He makes rough work of the belt buckle, takes a couple of tries to get the button out of the way. Then it's David's cock, firm and thick and as big as all the rumors had led Alexis to imagine it would be. Alexis wraps his fingers around it and begins to stroke. He keeps a light touch at the base and increases the pressure as he pulls towards the tip.

David groans. He lifts himself up, finding Alexis's mouth again. Alexis kisses him greedily, sucking and licking out any taste of himself that he can find. David groans louder at that, thrusting himself into the circle of Alexis's hand.

"Fuck me," Alexis says. His balls are starting to tighten. He feels high, intoxicated, utterly stoned on the sensation of David being so close to him. "*Fuck* me."

David nods, apparently just as unable to wait any longer. "Top or bottom?"

Alexis hesitates. He hadn't considered that David would offer. The thought of ramming himself inside of David's body tempts him, but he turns it down. This is cheating. It's an affair. Alexis wants to embrace the guilt of it, and leave himself no plausible deniability. Getting his cock into someone else could be an accident. It could happen to anyone at a bachelor party. Allowing someone to put their cock into *him*, however, is a deliberate act. It's the whole truth of what he wanted, and Alexis doesn't think he has the right to try to pussyfoot around it just so he can try to plead his innocence later on.

"Bottom," Alexis says. "I want you in me."

"Okay," David agrees. The bed creaks as he sits up. The two of them shuck pants and underwear off of their bodies and out of the way. Alexis watches, mesmerized, as David fishes condoms and lube out of an overnight case that's lying on the floor. David gets lube onto his fingers, then stares at Alexis, gesturing for guidance. "Face to face, or…?"

Alexis would love to look at David while this is happening, but doesn't trust his back to hold the position for as long as they need. He turns around, lifting his hips by way of an answer.

The view must hit David in just the right way, because he groans, palming his clean hand along Alexis's side and bending over to kiss and lick at Alexis's spine and shoulderblades. Before Alexis can respond, however, David nudges his legs apart and - yes, God, too tight, too long since he's done this, should've let himself play with certain toys in the past few years just to keep limber and - oh… oh…. he'd forgotten how good that could feel when it was something true and solid inside of him, and not the thin slight fingers of a sexually adventurous girl.

It's only the lubrication, opening him up, prepping him, sliding in and out and -

Alexis frowns. He turns around, but can't see. He presses back, then gets the answer. He can feel David's thumb, index, ring, and pinky finger against his ass. In spite of how full he feels, it's only the middle that has slid inside of him.

Alexis can't help it. He starts to giggle, trying unsuccessfully to muffle himself against the pillows.

Amazingly, David is the sort of fellow who joins in on the laughter, rather than assuming he's at the brunt of the joke. He's smiling and chuckling along as he tries to make eye contact. "What's so funny?"

Alexis twists around enough to kiss David on the mouth. "Proportions," he answers. "I forgot how much bigger your hands are than mine."

"Okay," David says, clearly still waiting for the punchline.

"I was doing this," Alexis says, miming fucking himself with one single finger, "and pretending it was you. But for accuracy, in place of one finger of yours I *should* have been doing at least two of my own. Maybe even three."

He expected David to laugh at his silliness as well. Instead David's quieter, and his eyes are dark again. "You fucked yourself, pretending it was me?"

Alexis's breath catches. He nods, unable to look away from David as he whispers, "Yes."

It's a new kind of tension in David's body now. Alexis can feel it vibrating through him. It's a tight control. The kind David uses during fight scenes, when he holds back on the athlete's strength and power that he possesses to make sure he doesn't harm a single one of his castmates and friends. It's that control which guides David's hand to the strip of condom packets, lets him tear one open with his teeth, then get the condom onto his cock before doing anything else.

Once done, the finger that slides back into Alexis becomes more insistent, and Alexis knows that this is where all the tension and need is going to. It wakes Alexis's body up, getting him onto his hands and knees and making him push back into what is now definitely more than one finger as David opens him, readies him, pumps him and fills him and then - *yes* - replaces hand with large, thick, thick cock.

The two of them are statue-still, frozen as both of their bodies react to the shock of contact. Then, as though with one exhaled sigh, they begin to move, bodies rocking together, Alexis's hands disappearing into the sheets and pillowcases, David's hands first firm and guiding on Alexis's hips, then the left drops down to caress Alexis's balls before slowly stroking up and down the erection that is now tight against Alexis's belly.

"Alex," David murmurs, and it brings a groan out of Alexis's body because the sound of David saying his name has become somehow intimate and dirty all at the same time. It's making him harder, hornier, desperate to thrust into David's hand or back onto David's cock and the push-pull of the two desires makes the room spin and the bed tilt and David's the only true and secure thing in it.

"David," Alexis says, wanting to give that right back to him, wanting David to know what it feels like when your name is turned into a heated whisper for a touch or a fuck, and perhaps he says those last parts out loud too because the hand on his hip tightens, and the hand on his cock starts to stutter-jerk up and down, and David's hips keep thrusting and thrusting and God, yes, *that*, spot, *there*, the one that hasn't felt a cock in so damned long and yes, oh, fuck - "David!"

The orgasm surprises him, leaping out of his body before he knew he was even at the line to trip over it. He cries out, feeling the stripes of come as they hit his arms and chest, then moans, long and low, as the endorphins race through his bloodstream.

"David," he sighs, feeling boneless and heavy.

David's not done yet. Alexis tries to help, adding turns and thrusts of his hips, and peppering it with true obscenities now. "Fuck me, take me, rape me with that enormous cock of yours, please, David, do it to me, now, please, fuck me, please" and then it's a sharp intake of breath and a shiver that alerts Alexis to David's rapidly arriving climax which makes David whimper, and go quiet until the last of the shudders go out of him.

They collapse onto the bed, sticky with sweat and come. The condom is quickly taken care of. The only energy they have left is just enough to roll out of the way of the wet spot, and then to fall asleep in one another's arms.

That night Alexis has the first good night's sleep that he's had in months. It's restful, and calm, and filled with dreams of David.

  
Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters and settings are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. No money is being made from this work. No copyright infringement is intended.


	6. Muffins

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Neither Alexis nor David are as innocent as they look.

The creak of the mattress wakes Alexis up.

It's a downward shift of movement as David awkwardly climbs back into bed. Alexis is facing the windows. David, from the feel of it, is facing the wall.

The clock reads 6am.

Or possibly 5. Alexis isn't awake enough to tell, and debating the numbers only makes him wish he hadn't left his glasses back in his hotel room.

*His* hotel room.

David.

Oh Hell.

There's a sound of running water which makes it clear what David was doing. Alexis thinks this is a wise way to handle the question of what's the first thing that should be done on the morning after officially cheating on your fiancée with your married co-worker who is in many aspects your superior, if only in the sense that if things go wrong on the job it's far more likely that you're going to be fired than he is. It's direct, it's simple, it's without emotion.

Also, Alexis really does need to pee. His own fault for not taking care of that after all the drinks the night before.

He's not hungover, though. Not by much. His head throbs when he stands up, but it's the ache of dehydration rather than the sharp bite of alcoholic toxins working their way out of his system. He rubs his forehead as he gingerly steps through the clothes that have been scattered across the floor, and once his bladder's needs are taken care of he follows it up by drinking several glasses of flat-tasting hotel water directly from the tap.

He doesn't turn the light on, but his reflection stares back at him in the bathroom mirror thanks to the faint glow that emanates from the switch that turns the hair dryer on. He's in need of a shave, but that's currently a job requirement. A swipe of his hand across his chin tells him he'll need to trim the beard back a bit once he gets home. He imagines he can do that sometime after unpacking, and ideally before Alyson slaps him for screwing around on her. Alexis imagines that the slap might leave a kind of sensitivity that would make facial hair grooming rather uncomfortable.

He doesn't imagine himself confessing to her, however. He figures the guilt will be obvious in his eyes.

Particularly as he's not regretting sleeping with David as much as he keeps trying to tell himself he should.

Not that it matters. One night stands are what they are, and Vegas has a popular advertising slogan for a reason (though damn them for telling the *world* about that, and ruining it for the rest of them.) The greatest problem isn't the lack of regret, it's the painful social awkwardness of dealing with the morning after. Difficult to look your friend and co-worker in the eye when your brain keeps reminding you of how much more fun it was to look directly at his cock.

Alexis decides he can be manly about this, and professional. The absolute worst would be losing the friendship. Clearly what's needed is regaining platonic footing, and maintaining that from then on out.

Which means that Alexis really needs to find, and then put on his pants.

The hotel room is still dark when Alexis walks back into it. A pale stripe of light illuminates the floor by the doorway, but it only serves to blind Alexis more as he tries to navigate his way towards the bed.

He bends down, reaching his hands out. He tries to remember the order of events so he can deduce where his clothing went, but that line of thought doesn't help him to remain in the realm of platonic. He banishes the ideas and does the best he can by feeling around for anything that might be the right material.

He encounters something that feels like his belt buckle, and pulls at the lump of clothing that's attached to it.

David's moving when Alexis stands up again. It's an odd gesture, made odder still by the lack of light. Alexis thinks that perhaps David is trying to brush something off of his leg, but David, perhaps sensing that Alexis can see him, stops himself and lies still.

Alexis nods, thinking this confirms his theory. It's a relief, actually. David will feign sleep, Alexis will dress and try to leave as quickly as possible. They can meet up later on the ride to the plane, and pretend as though nothing has happened.

He sits down on the bed by the window, and tries to make sure his pants aren't pulled inside-out.

After a while he notices that David's head is turned towards him. A glint of light indicates that David's eyes are open, and watching him.

Alexis feels a lick of nerves. He steels himself, trying to guess if he should say something. Or, if David should speak first, what he should say in response.

Alexis has figured out what he feels are good replies to "Good morning", "Up already?" and even "Going somewhere?" when David opens his mouth.

"You know, I've never done it with somebody who's one Kevin Bacon away from a Beatle."

Alexis finds that he has completely forgotten how pants work. He holds the garment uselessly in his hands as he blurts out the first words that come to mind. "Please tell me that's not *why* you slept with me."

David sits up. He props himself up on one of the pillows. "Nah. Well, not *that*. Maybe if it'd been Ringo, though."

"Two Kevins, then," Alexis points out. "Me, to George, to him."

"Huh," David says, as though that hadn't occurred to him. Alexis's eyes have either adjusted to the dark enough that he can see David's grin, or David's smile provides its own illumination. "Guess so."

"I didn't sleep with George, you know," Alexis says.

"Didn't think you did," David replies.

"I just wanted to be clear," Alexis says.

"Okay," David replies.

Alexis finds he doesn't have anything else to say to that. He resumes trying to put his pants on, only belatedly realizing that he doesn't know where he left his underwear.

David watches him for a long time. Then he says, "There's this muffin."

Alexis ponders this. In the world of conversations with David, an opening like that could be talking about everything from a specific item to the elemental concept of baked goods. Alexis plays it safe and settles for a non-specific, "Oh?"

"Smells like pumpkin," David says, "but I don't think it's pumpkin."

"Because it's a muffin."

"Because I think it's a *bran* muffin," David says. "I don't know. It's brown. Or it was. But it smells like pumpkin."

Alexis thinks that perhaps pants were too difficult an obstacle to set for himself. He wonders if he should set his sights lower on finding, and then getting into, his shirt. Since David's clearly expecting him to say something, he tries, "I'm sorry the muffin confused you?" and then thinks to himself that there are certain types of sentences he only says when he's around David Boreanaz, and the problem is that he enjoys the strangeness of it far too much.

"It wasn't confusing," David assures him - and it's David, so he's both taking Alexis's sympathy in kind *and* genuinely letting him know that there was no food-related trauma, just in case Alexis might have been up nights worrying about it. Which, given that it's David, Alexis just might have. "Smelled great. Tasted good too."

"A story with a happy ending then," Alexis says. He can't find his shirt. He's tempted to go reaching under the beds to find it, but he's leery of blindly reaching his hand into places that dead bodies might have been stored in. He's watched CSI, he knows how that sort of thing goes.

David sits up more. "You don't like muffins?"

Alexis squats on the floor and reaches under the bed anyway. He winces when he encounters dust bunnies. "That depends on the type."

"Doesn't have to be a muffin."

"If it was born a muffin then I don't think we should reject it for not choosing another lifestyle," Alexis stops himself, hearing what he just said. He shakes his head, looking up at David. "What do you *do* to me?"

Alexis's eyes have adjusted to the light enough that he can see David start to smile, then stop as though he's not certain if he should. "Is it bad?"

Alexis feels something in his heart that he knows he shouldn't. He closes his eyes because he'll kiss David if he keeps himself vulnerable to David's confused puppy look. "I'm getting dressed."

"There could be coffee."

"Clothes first," Alexis says. He realizes that's not much of a denial. He tries harder. "I'm not in the mood for coffee, thank you."

"Did I fuck this up?"

That gets Alexis's eyes to open again. "What?"

"Shit," David says, as though Alexis had answered him. "I did. I'm sorry."

"No," Alexis stands up. "No, David, it was fine."

David's now staring at him in horror. "I fucked it up *and* I was bad at it?"

"Are you *kidding* me?" Alexis asks, his mouth yet again possessed by parts of his brain which apparently have no desire to consult with the other parts to make sure that he doesn't say anything stupid. "For God's sake, I'm *sore*."

David frowns. "Is that good or - "

"Extremely good," Alexis says. "Amazingly good. Starting to understand why people like jocks good."

"You don't like jocks?" David asks.

"Not as a rule, no," Alexis says.

"I'm not your type?" David asks.

Alexis folds his arms. "Apparently I got over it."

David sits up more. "Did I fuck it up?"

"David," Alexis says, patiently, "I came so hard I think that's why my head hurts."

"No," David says. "I meant - wait, really?"

"You were there," Alexis reminds him. "You don't remember?"

"I don't know if your head hurts," David says. "I know you felt good. Real good. Do you need an aspirin?"

"I need you to pull that blanket up," Alexis says, "because I can't talk while I'm staring at those muscles, and that hair, and - David, blanket *up*."

David adjusts the bedding. "You're not wearing anything either."

"Not for lack of trying," Alexis points out.

"You'd rather be dressed?" David asks.

"I think it's best," Alexis says.

David's shoulders slump. "I didn't mean to. Shit. I'm sorry, Alex. I know you don't like fucking around with co-workers. But I figured, you know, four years."

Alexis has had this conversation before, with Alyson. "Seeing someone you're working with *is* awkward, particularly when there's such a difference in status on the set. And friendship should always be the most important thing between us. I would hate to think that I lost somebody I trusted and valued as a friend because we - "

Then Alexis pauses, because he's given this speech to Alyson.

Then he pauses again, because *David*, in his own way, was giving this speech to *him*.

One more pause and he catches a final detail. "Four years?"

"Yeah," David says.

Alexis holds a hand out, as though he's steadying the information so it doesn't run away. "Four years as in we've worked together for four years, or four years as in -"

"I waited four years," David says.

Alexis's mouth hangs open for several moments. A voice in his head tells him to go, walk right out the door, worry about pants later if need be but *leave*.

The rest of him says: "David, if you mean that and this is actually what you wanted out of all of this then I'd really like to keep going and what I really want is to give you a blowjob. But only if that's not going to be against what you had in mind."

"No. Yes." David frowns. "Whatever answer means blowjob. I'm saying yes to blowjob."

Alexis takes a step forward. "And more?"

"Sure," David nods enthusiastically. "Lots more."

Alexis kneels down, bracing himself against David's knees. "Not a one-night stand?"

A look of discomfort flashes across David's face, but it's replaced by disbelief, and shock. "I don't fuck around, Alex. I told you, this isn't a star perk."

"I've never done this before," Alexis says. "I don't know how it works."

"It works with us having fun, and being happy," David says.

Alexis tugs the blanket aside. He wraps his hands around David's half-hard cock. "Happy?"

David's breath hitches. To his credit, he replies, "Not just that kind of happy."

"You actually took our friendship into consideration?" Alexis asks.

David seems surprised that Alexis even considers it a question. "It was important to you."

Alexis takes David's cock into his mouth.

It's been years since he's given a blowjob. He tells himself it's like riding a bicycle, but doing so only makes him over-think it. His mouth feels dry. His teeth are in the way. His gag reflex is too eager to remind him of its existence.

He retreats to familiar territory. He strokes David's cock with his hand, squeezing as he goes, making it harder and harder with each pull up. He concentrates on licking David's cock, running his tongue up and down the sides like a popsicle, remembering the lover so many years ago who had enjoyed that almost as much as the actual blowing, but David groans, and thrusts forward, and Alexis isn't thinking about anyone else anymore.

He's made bold by the encouragement. He remembers how to tease the slit. He uses his other hand to caress and tug at David's balls. Then it's back to his lips. He places kisses over the shaft, then wraps his entire mouth around it. He flutters the flat of his tongue along the underside. He sucks in pulses that have no rhythm.

David's soon fully hard and breathing harder. One hand braces him against the mattress. The other goes on Alexis's shoulder, holding him in a grip that's at times the easygoing, friendly pat that David gives to all his co-workers, at other times the rough clutch of the man who was so desperate to fuck him the night before.

David's desire for him becomes a real, palpable thing. No longer an abstract thought, or a swirl of hormones that could be blamed on the drink and entertainment of a bachelor party. It's not innocent flirting anymore either. It's honesty. Two men, wanting each other. Two adults, acting on it.

Alexis grabs David's hip, holding it tight. He suddenly doesn't want David to go anywhere. David responds by thrusting forward, and Alexis sighs with relief.

He wants to make David come. He wants to make him groan and shout and lose control. Memories flooding back to him, Alexis takes his mouth off of David's cock and sits back. David moans, not happily, but quiets when he sees that Alexis is looking up at him and sucking on first one finger, then two.

"I have to keep up with the competition," Alexis says, wondering if David remembers the conversation from the night before.

David does, because his look becomes darker, and hungrier. "Do it."

Alexis pulls David forward, then slides two fingers into David's ass. With his free hand he guides David's cock back into his mouth, and begins to suck him off in time to the thrusts of his fingers.

"Feels good," David tells him. His fingers are trembling on Alexis's shoulder. "So fucking good."

Alexis wants to respond in kind, but lets his actions speak instead. He works harder, adding in scrapes of his teeth, hums, and quick, sharp movements that send his fingers in and in and hitting David *right* on the exact spot needed to get him to go quiet, and whimper, and -

"Sorry!" Alexis coughs out as soon as his lungs can take in air again. His eyes are watering. His nose runs. His mouth and cheeks are smeared with saliva and come and oh *Christ* why did he have to forget how to co-ordinate the spit or the swallow? "Sorry! Been a while."

"Come here," David says. He makes room for Alexis on the bed. His body is soft and warm from coming. Alexis leans against him, trying to remember how to breathe.

David is relaxed. He takes tissues off the nightstand and wipes at Alexis's face. Then he starts kissing him. First on the neck, then the shoulders, then slowly up to the mouth.

"Wanna fuck me?" David asks.

Alexis's lungs forget that they ever had a problem. "I - yes. Whatever answer means yes."

They kiss. Their bodies form a tangle of arms and legs and tongues. Hands meet. Fingers knit together. Then David's hand goes lower, stroking at Alexis's cock which is *dying* for him, *dying* for the feel of those strong fingertips touching and pulling and jerking and oh, God, he could come from that alone, he's wanted David to jerk him off for so long he could come from just the feel of oh, yes, *yes* -

"Fuck me," David says.

"Okay," Alexis replies, glad, now, for that part of him that doesn't censor his speech.

It's an impossible fantasy, then. David, naked and inviting and ready, spread out underneath him, offering himself up like a prize, Alexis's cock so hard he almost doesn't even want to touch it for fear of coming. But he has to, because if he doesn't get inside of David he'll go insane. So he touches David, and fumbles for condoms, and struggles with the wrapper when -

There's a knock, and a voice saying "Guys?"

"*Shit*," Alexis hisses. Then he clamps a hand to his mouth, wondering if he was heard.

A louder knock. "*Guys?*"

It's Andy. For a moment Alexis selfishly wants to leave him where he is, but then he remembers that this was originally Andy's room.

The look on David's face indicates that he's on the same page. "I'll take care of it."

Alexis tries to find a way to talk him out of it. None come to mind. Then he remembers the practical. "David, we can't. The other bed - "

"I'll take care of it," David promises. He rolls over, giving Alexis a kiss. "Trust me."

It's not stated as a question, but Alexis treats it as such anyway. "Yes."

David smiles, then shoves him down onto the mattress.

It's not for sex, however. It's so David can carefully crawl over him and go to the other bed. He yanks the bedcovers off and wraps them around himself in an impromptu toga. He then takes the blanket underneath and throws it over Alexis, completely covering him from head to foot.

"Stay there," David tells him. He rubs Alexis's hip in a comforting manner, then from the sound of it goes to answer the door.

"Did I wake you up?" Andy asks.

"What do you think?" David replies.

"Sorry," Andy says. "Up all night. Had to shower. My stuff was here so - "

"Whatever," David says around a yawn. "You need me for anything or…?"

"Go back to sleep," Andy says. Then, his voice lower, asks, "Is Alexis still down for the count?"

"He's still in bed," David says.

"Sorry, Alex," Andy says in the loud stage-whisper of one who is still too drunk to realize how noisy he's being. "Stay where you are, I won't make a sound."

"Might do breakfast later," David tells him.

"Do not talk to me about food," Andy says. "Go. Resume shut-eye. My stuff's still in here, right?"

"Didn't touch anything," David says.

"I'll be quiet as a church mouse," Andy says.

The slam of the bathroom door gives lie to the words. There's thumps, squeaks, and rattles before the hum and tinny clatter of water rushing through the pipes and falling into the bathtub. It's only then, when Andy is clearly occupied, that Alexis feels David sit back down on the bed.

"He'll be a while," David says. "He always takes a long shower."

Alexis moves the blanket aside so he can look at him. "Shame we can't continue where we left off."

David runs his hand up Alexis's leg, palming the still-hard cock through the bedding. "Who says we can't?"

"David!"

"He's busy," David says. "We could be quiet."

"And if he comes out in two minutes because he forgot something?" Alexis counters.

"He won't," David says.

"He forgot to not come back here until later this morning," Alexis points out.

David takes his hand back. "Damn it."

"I'm not thrilled about it either," Alexis says.

"There's always LA," David says.

"We can keep doing this back in LA?" Alexis asks.

"You want to?" David asks.

Alexis thinks about it. "You waited four years?"

"Yeah," David says.

Alexis almost doesn't want to point out the flaw in David's actions. "If you knew how important it was to me not to get involved with co-workers, why did you *stop*?"

David becomes quiet. He looks away. "Because they keep talking about us getting cancelled. I figured if that happens, I was never going to see you again. Figured I'd take the chance. Lose you for the right reason, you know?"

Alexis sits up. "David, get off of the bed."

David stands. "Did I fuck it up again?"

"No," Alexis says. "I'm about two kisses away from taking you. I need all the willpower I can get."

A smile starts to dance on David's lips. "I did the right thing?"

"Get to the other side of the room," Alexis points. "And put your clothes on."

David comes closer. "Two kisses?"

"Clothes *on*," Alexis repeats.

David leans in. His eyes are dark, and Alexis can't bring himself to look away from them. "One."

It's a kiss. Long and soft. Without teeth, but enough tongue to make Alexis's cock twitch and yearn.

Alexis finds himself nuzzling David's cheek. He attempts to force out a token protest. "We really shouldn't."

"One and a half," David replies, bending down to suck and bite at Alexis's lower lip. His hands caress Alexis's chest, thumbnails flicking over the nipples.

Alexis moans. He wraps his arms around David, drawing him closer. "We *really* shouldn't."

"One and three-quarters," David says, dragging his mouth down to Alexis's neck where he runs his lips and tongue up and down the sensitive skin on his throat. "One and four-fifths…."

"Fuck me," Alexis whispers. "Right - "

The sound of the bathroom door opening cuts through the both of them. David's off him in a flash, landing on the other bed in a sitting position that thankfully puts the bedcovers right over his lap.

"Forgot shampoo," Andy says, walking back into the room with a towel wrapped around his waist. He frowns at David. "You still awake?"

"Yup," David says, with simple honesty.

Andy digs through an overnight bag. "Hey, Alex. You up because of me?"

Alexis rubs his eyes, grateful for the pile of blankets which cover a multitude of sins. "No. That's entirely David's fault."

"Well sleep anyway," Andy says. "Don't let his snoring scare you."

Alexis can't help but glance at David, who is himself barely able to hide a smirk. "I won't."

"There it is," Andy says, producing a travel-sized bottle out of his bag. "Okay, back into what they're calling water pressure."

"Have fun," David waves him off.

Andy snorts. "With *you* two in hearing range?"

"Do you think he's aware of the irony?" Alexis murmurs once the bathroom door is safely closed again.

"Really want to fuck you," David whispers back. "Want you to fuck me."

Alexis grins, feeling a giddy sort of joy. "LA?"

David nods. "LA."

Alexis closes his eyes, savoring the promise of being with David again and again.

  
Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters and settings are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. No money is being made from this work. No copyright infringement is intended.


	7. Split

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Neither Alexis nor David are as innocent as they look.

Los Angeles can't come quickly enough. *Alexis* can't come quickly enough. His body quivers as they go from breakfast to shuttle to flight. He looks at David. He tries not to look at David. He's too loud, then too quiet, then everything in between.

Jerking off would have probably helped matters, but no spare moment suggests itself.

Once back in LA it's business. Their sleepy, hung-over group collects baggage, retrieves cars, shares rides, and flags down taxis. It's like another world.

Alexis goes through the motions of getting home. His exhausted mind is already prepared to write off the trip as a dream. Lord knows it's no different from the fantasies he's had lately.

Then David grabs Alexis's bag just as Alexis is reaching for it. Their hands touch. David holds Alexis's still beneath his warm palm. Their eyes meet. David winks.

And as quickly as that the moment is done.

Alexis can't wipe the smile off of his face for the rest of the day.

***

They don't wait long for sex. Next day, on the set, Alexis is early for a call, David's late - it would come off as preplanned except neither of them talked about it beforehand.

They find each other like homing pigeons. With twenty entire minutes to call their own they grapple in David's trailer. Clothes come off - Alexis's own, David's costume - mouths meet, bodies wrestle. There's friction and gasping and clinging and whispers that sound like "Fuck" and "David" and "Alex" and "Please."

Alexis gets too loud when he comes. He doesn't care. He wants this to be raw, and real, and tangible.

When David comes they kiss, and Alexis discovers that David likes having his cheeks touched when he's slowly sinking down off the post-orgasm high.

***

They can't stop touching each other. Alone, in front of others, it doesn't matter. They try to keep a semblance of decorum but Alexis is the one who finds himself forgetting. They'll be at a table read and his foot will meet David's beneath the privacy of their chairs. They'll be on set and their fingers will brush together, then entwine. It's gravity, it's magnetism. David smiles and Alexis is there.

They spend every possible moment together. Alexis would fear coming off like a pathetic stalker except that David shows up at his trailer as, if not more, often than Alexis shows up at his. Off-hours they're barely apart. Alexis would call *that* nothing more than a surge in hormones, except that oddly enough sex isn't always a part of it. They're just as likely to spend the night watching a movie or grabbing dinner together as they are to be locked in each other's arms.

David takes it in stride. He smiles big smiles at Alexis and calls it NRE: New Relationship Energy. Alexis feels a black pit in his stomach at that. Energy is undeniable. Relationship is a word with implications that he feels he can firmly disclaim. And yet being called new feels off-putting and insulting. He isn't new. He's been in David's life for years. Fucking is a continuation of their friendship. New is for flings. New is for groupies. Alexis doesn't want to be either one of those things.

One night, when they're driving around LA in David's car, Alexis is drunk enough off David's company that he makes fun of the 'new' label.

"What do you want to call it?" David asks. "Old energy?"

"I'm not *new*," Alexis says, dropping the word off his tongue like a sour candy.

David laughs. He lets go of the gear shift long enough to thread his fingers through Alexis's hand and draw it up for a kiss. "Old energy it is then."

The word *relationship* hangs rather pointedly in the air between them. Alexis lets it sit there. He's got too much to think about already.

***

The problem with Alyson turns out not to be a problem at all. Alexis's mind cheerfully disconnects and forms two lives for him. One: on the set, and dying with every second that he can't get his hands on his co-star. The other: at home with his fiancé and soul mate and somehow managing to discuss topics like pew bows without vomiting out a confession of guilt.

It helps that Alexis's brain is apparently very good at shelving things best left unspoken. It also helps that when Aly does things like sit cross-legged on their bed while wearing a cotton cami and a pair of boxer shorts, she dumps thick bridal magazines onto the bedspread and demands of the universe "What in the flaming heck *are* pew bows, anyway?"

"Do we need them?" Alexis asks her.

"Mom says yes," she replies. "Apparently no pew bows equal big wedding disaster."

"She's a big bow woman herself, is she?" Alexis asks.

"Huge," Aly demonstrates this by spreading her hands out in I-once-caught-a-fish-*this*-big style. "I had no idea. I hope you can marry me anyway, knowing that I might inflict this obsession with unbowed pews on our children. You never know. This could be in the genes."

And the thought of being with her for the rest of their lives, and the thought of *having* children - children with her wit, and patience, and chin - is something that he knows he can't possibly give up no matter what happens.

It wouldn't be a problem, except every time he sees David he knows that he'll be utterly miserable if they never kissed again.

So Alexis keeps seeing David, and keeps not telling Aly about it. He knows there's a timeline of some kind on this, some kind of countdown where the thing he doesn't talk about with David and the thing he doesn't talk about with Aly will both run out and explode into something horrible, quite possibly at the exact same moment. But denial works well to keep Alexis going, so he sticks with it for now.

***

A night of bowling is declared.

Jay has a friend in from the East Coast and wants to show him a good time. Invitations go out to everyone, but somehow it turns into a boys' night out. Alexis, David, and Vincent round out the list of usual suspects from Jay's work related life. Non-work friends of Jay's join in too. Then Chris is added as a last minute addition when an LA gig, downtime, and the desire to hang out coincide.

It's the first time Alexis and David have been out with the others since Vegas. Strangely, Alexis feels no nerves at this. He knows nights of bullshitting with the guys. He could engage in the banter in his sleep and never arouse suspicion.

Or maybe he just tells himself this because homoerotic jokes are the norm amongst them all - the blooper reels attest to that - and this get together provides him with yet another flimsy excuse to spend more time with David.

They lay siege to four lanes at Bowl Me Over. The work group automatically clusters together. David and Chris take one side, Vincent and Alexis take another. Jay bowls lane two, but floats amongst all the groups to make sure everyone's having a good time.

"Anybody here surprised this pussy has got his own shoes?" Chris asks. He gestures at David with his beer, spilling a few drops down to the floor.

"You're just jealous that I know how to handle my balls," David throws back, not even needing to think about it. He unzips a leather case that reveals a purple and blue swirled bowling ball. When Alexis squints he can see the name "HOMER" on it.

"Bought it with my first acting paycheck," David explains.

"Act like you know what the fuck you're doing and ram that thing down the lane," Chris tells him.

"Funny," David replies, "that's what your mom told me last night."

"Just for that I'm going to own your ass when this is over," Chris says.

Alexis picks up the volley easily. He grins at Vincent and says, "Funny, that's just what Chris said to *me* last night."

"Aw shit," Vincent makes a show of crumbling his face in disappointment. "You too?"

David punctuates the conversation by gracefully landing a strike. He does a football dance of victory, then takes a bow when he earns applause.

"Man's a god-damn golden boy," Chris says to nobody in particular.

Alexis can't take his eyes off David. His mind constructs elaborate fantasies that involve the various ways he could kiss and fuck David without David ever needing to take off his glasses. "He certainly is."

***

Games are played. Somehow scoring is muddled so that David and Chris are competing against one another instead of on the same team. Alexis is no expert, but holds his own enough to make some money on side bets.

"I'm going for food," Vincent announces at one point.

"Tell him I said hi," David says. It comes off as a non-sequitur until Alexis sees that Vincent had his cell phone out and ready to dial.

"Fuck you," Vincent replies. "You want anything?"

"More beer, more nachos," David pulls his wallet out. He hands a wad of bills to Vincent. It's a gesture that manages to be friendly and brotherly instead of presumptuous. "Here. Your folks'll beat the shit out of me if I don't make sure you get fed right."

"Great, now I've got cash for that crack I wanted to score," Vincent skillfully dives out of the way as David reaches to tickle him. "Beers for anybody else?"

Alexis finishes his off. "Please."

"Good kid," Chris observes once Vincent is gone.

"You should meet his family," David agrees.

***

Jay perches at the end of Alexis's bench. "Who's winning?"

"Me," David and Chris say at once.

"Beer, nachos," Vincent says, depositing the food onto their already crowded table.

"What in the caramel crunchy fuck do you have on your face?" Jay asks.

Vincent grins. He strikes a pose, highlighting the neon pink sunglasses he's wearing that are shaped like a hippo. "Aren't they the best?"

"Those are the coolest things *ever*," David sits forward. "Lemme try."

"Get your own," Vincent swats his hand away.

"Where'd you get 'em?" David asks.

"Arcade," Vincent thumbs out the direction. "You gotta play the third machine on the left. The one with the spirals."

Which proves that Vincent either doesn't know David very well at all, or he knows him expertly because you don't suggest things like that to David Boreanaz without expecting him to take you up on it.

"I'll be back," David stands up on his chair to swing over to the other side.

"We're still playing, asshole," Chris says.

"Just for that I'm not finding out if I can win you one shaped like a monkey," David says.

"I'll take next," Jay says.

"Aren't you already playing?" Alexis asks.

"And I will win both because I *am* the man," Jay replies.

When David returns he's sporting bright yellow sunglasses shaped like a bear, and some kind of blue glittery necklace that clashes with the tight olive-green shirt that he's wearing. He throws clear plastic balls at everyone with the expert hand of a baseball pitcher.

"Here," David says. "Fashion show."

Alexis catches his without dropping it. It turns out not to be a ball but a capsule out of a vending machine. There's a glittery necklace inside like David's.

"'Baby'," Chris reads his own. "Niiice. What's yours say?"

David climbs into his chair. He stands on top of it like he owns the world. "Diva."

"No, no," Vincent says. "You gotta do that with flair."

David immediately strikes another pose. One arm up, the other down, the hips go out to complete the Saturday Night Fever look. "*Diva*."

"Better," Vincent says.

"What'd you get, Alex?" Chris asks.

Alexis reads his necklace. "Star."

"Not bad," David says, with a wink that might imply the match up wasn't a coincidence. He gets down off his chair and sprawls out between Alexis and Vincent. "Need help putting yours on?"

Alexis is about to answer when he realizes David isn't talking to him.

"I got it," Vincent says. He puts his necklace on, which reads 'Doll.'

"Oh *this* is a Kodak moment," Jay says. He takes out his phone and flips it open to activate the camera. "Cheese."

David and Vincent fall onto each other so they can both get into frame. They smile brightly enough to match their new accessories.

"Got it," Jay says. "Hel-lo internet!"

"My publicist will be thrilled," David says. He sits back up. He snags a beer so deftly that it takes Alexis a moment to realize that David's right hand is now resting behind Alexis's shoulders. It feels as though the world should stop at that, but it doesn't.

"Doing okay?" David asks him.

"Great," Alexis says. From this close he can see that David has managed to put the child-sized sunglasses on over his own prescription lenses. Alexis wonders if Old Relationship Energy is the reason why he finds that incredibly sexy.

"Good," David says. His thumb begins to caress the back of Alexis's neck. Alexis leans into the touch. He'll happily forgo playing for the rest of the night if it means David won't stop.

Chris and Jay go head to head. Vincent takes another call, but their group is noisy enough that he doesn't need to go far to make sure no one overhears him. Alexis drinks his beer, eats cold nachos, and feels his heart thud heavily with every swipe of David's thumb against his skin.

"Dave," Chris's voice interrupts Alexis's reverie. The warning tone makes a jolt of fear go through Alexis's body, except Chris isn't looking in their direction. Instead he nods to indicate that David should look towards the entrance.

There's a clot of people by the register. Alexis can't make anyone out in particular.

Chris apparently sees a problem that he could solve. "You want me to - "

David cuts him off with a whistle and a wave. "Yo! Big D!"

Someone separates. At first it looks like Nicolas. Then Alexis realizes that it's not.

"Hey," Kelly comes over. He nods a greeting at everyone. "What's up?"

"Hanging out," Chris says. He's perched on the edge of his chair. He's clearly prepped for something, but Alexis doesn't know what. "You?"

"Meeting somebody," Kelly rolls his shoulder back towards the register. "Usual gotta met a guy about a thing."

"So not staying?" Vincent asks.

"Not long," Kelly says. He finally looks at David. "How's it going?"

"Couldn't be better," David's hand isn't on Alexis's neck anymore. He's got a big smile on, though. He's affable, friendly David. Anyone meeting him would think he was having a good time. "You? How's things in your neck of the woods?"

"Same old, same old," Kelly says, and this sounds like code of some kind. Like David knows what he's saying even if nobody else does. "You know how it is."

"Yeah, sure," David's smile doesn't waiver. He immediately goes into host mode. "You want in? We're just starting a new game. Plenty of room if you can find the shoes."

"Nah, I'm good," Kelly finally takes his hands out of his pockets to indicate how he's pressed for time. "Thanks. Just wanted to say hi. You know, since I saw you."

"Sure," David says.

"We should call," Kelly mimes holding a phone to his ear. "You, me. I got the new Playstation."

"Absolutely," David says. "Count on it."

"Great," Kelly gives a half-wave to the rest of them. "Nice seeing you."

"You too," Jay says.

Kelly dissolves back into the crowd.

"Let's play another game," Chris says at once.

"Anybody want more beer?" Vincent asks. "I can get more beer."

"I gotta hit the head," David announces, and leaves before anyone can ask.

There's a moment of quiet. Then there's noise and movement. Vincent and one of Jay's friends play a game. Jay excuses himself to return to the other groups. Chris drinks beer and tallies scores.

Alexis takes this all in.

It was a significant moment. Alexis can tell that much without help. What puzzles him are the facts he wouldn't have guessed without assistance: Chris knows what happened. *Vincent* knows what happened. Alexis knew that he and his co-workers didn't share everything, but this is the first time he's become keenly aware that there are parts to their lives that he's been in total ignorance of.

More importantly, parts to *David's* life that he knew nothing about.

Chris sits in silence but looks at Alexis every so often. It's a sly look. Subtle. No one would notice it if they hadn't been paranoid all night long about people's eyes being more perceptive than they needed to be. Alexis has a flash back to the rumors he's heard. David-and-Chris. If that was true, does Chris have the key to recognize when David's normal joking is a thin disguise over serious flirting? Did he notice them the entire night?

It's all guesswork with nothing to confirm it, but Alexis thinks that Chris does know. Moreover, he's watching to see what Alexis will do.

Watching, and also judging.

Alexis wants to claim innocence. Or at least ignorance of what's going on. He wants to ask Chris or Vincent to tell him the truth.

But he doesn't deserve the truth if he doesn't have special privilege. Jay clearly knew nothing. He was a friend, but not on the inner circle.

To get in, Alexis has to admit that he wants in.

Alexis realizes that Chris is not the man he needs to admit that to.

"I'll be back," Alexis says, and he goes to hunt down David.

***

David is past the arcade in the dark corridor that leads to rooms with locked doors and the faint smell of old disinfectant that seeps out from the bathrooms. He stands hunched against a wall, looking like a man who wishes he could smoke.

He lifts his head when Alexis approaches. The sunglasses are gone. The regular glasses remain, as does the necklace. His brown eyes are dark, and vulnerable, and with a flash of insight Alexis knows that David's guard will go up in a heartbeat if Alexis doesn't catch him first.

It's not the truth, but it's a path to it. It's a path to *David*, and Alexis realizes that matters.

"I want you," Alexis says. He puts a hand on David's chest. He pushes him against the wall. "I want to fuck you. Right now."

A jangling melody from the arcade provides a loud and too-fast soundtrack. "You sure about that?" David asks.

This is a time for playfulness. For reminding David that he isn't the only one who can find joy in down moments.

"I've never fucked you in a bowling alley," Alexis says. "I think we should scratch that off the list."

"There's a list?" David asks.

"A long one," Alexis says.

"Was bowling alley high?" David asks. "Like top ten?"

"I'm seizing a moment," Alexis says.

"What's number one?" David asks.

"The back seat of your car," Alexis replies. Then he kisses David before either of them can get distracted with the details.

They don't linger in the hallway. Instead they commandeer one of the bathrooms, which turns out to be a broken unisex handicap stall. Alexis feels guilty about this until he realizes that the toilet doesn't work and nobody could have used it anyway.

The room is dark, and rank, and wet in ways that don't suggest clean water. But David is strong and warm and looking like a youthful college professor who's just ripe for an eager student to stay with him during office hours for long, hard talks about... well, not that Alexis has fantasies.

Alexis tugs David's shirt up. He kisses and licks the exposed skin. He unsuccessfully tries to keep still as David grips and massages his ass. Their mouths meet. The kisses are greedy, and breathless. Alexis palms David's cock for a few strokes, then David lifts him bodily onto the sink. Alexis immediately wraps his legs around David and draws him closer.

They're both hard. They grind against each other. Alexis thinks it's stupid for them to do this when they could easily come and leave tell tale stains, but then David's hip inserts itself between his legs and suddenly Alexis can't talk or think.

He slips down off the sink enough to give David the same friction. He holds David close, cupping the back of his neck, and talks dirty to him whenever their lips part. He doesn't know what happened to send David running, but he wants to erase every memory of it. He wants to take it out, and fill David's mind with nothing but pornographic thoughts of him.

Alexis might have said some of this out loud. He's not certain. He knows that David groans, and grinds harder, and it's not long before Alexis's teeth are chattering and he starts to see white.

"Fuck me, c'mon, need you," Alexis chokes out.

"Alex," David says, and it's a groan and a sigh and a breath over his ear. "Yes..."

"Yes," Alexis agrees. He refuses to think about the unspoken question. "*Yes*."

Their movements get closer. Tighter. Alexis helps out by rubbing the heel of his hand against David's fly until finally David jerks and falls forward. A roll of David's hips and Alexis is hissing, and clutching David's shoulders tightly enough that he's certain he's stretched out the fabric of the shirt he's been ogling all night.

They stand, forehead to forehead, and breath each other's air for a while.

"Let's go," David says.

"Where?" Alexis asks.

"Anywhere," David says. "I need to be somewhere with you."

And Alexis knows that means the concept of *them*, of what they create alone together that doesn't happen when anyone else is around. And he has friends, and a fiancé, and a life this doesn't actually fit in to.

But he also has David in his arms, and things don't feel right without him.

"Yes," Alexis says. He kisses David on the cheek. "Yes."

  
Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters and settings are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. No money is being made from this work. No copyright infringement is intended.


End file.
